The Beast You've Made of Me
by Dear Bellatrix
Summary: "I expect you tonight, as usual," he wiped the blood from her split lip, "I hope you will learn that the Dark Lord is not always this merciful, my dear. Oh and do try to clean yourself up, Bella. You're bleeding." BELLAMORT.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own _Harry Potter_. I wish I did, I really do! But I don't.

A/N: The rating will probably go up as the story progresses, I just didn't want to mark it as "M" until I've written chapters that would cause me to change the rating. Happy reading!

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><p>"Insolence!" Voldemort shouted, firing a Cruciatus Curse at Lucius Malfoy. He yelped and fell to the ground writhing, but the Dark Lord paid him no attention. "Could not <em>one<em> of you secure the boundaries? Or did you plan to besmirch my name with your _stupidity_? Outsmarted by a house-elf..." He laughed darkly and surveyed the small group of Death Eaters on the bench before him.

Lucius, who had by then recovered from his 'punishment', was brushing the dust off of his robes. His nose was gashed and a purplish bruise had begun to form around his left eye. Draco did not dare meet the Dark Lord's eyes and had hung his head with a mixture of shame and fear. Narcissa held her son's hand, comfortingly, as a mother would. She too hung her head, but unlike her son, she had closed her eyes and, had it not been for the steady stroking of Draco's hand, Voldemort might have mistaken her calm demeanor as sleep.

His gaze hung on the final person left in the room: Bellatrix. She sat with her hand crossed in her lap, her talon-like fingernails grasping at the fabric of her dress. Her hair was disheveled and matted and her face was splattered with a thin layer of dirt. Yet, unlike the Malfoys, she dared to look upon her master's face. His eyes bore into hers and he searched for an answer as to why they had lost. He could not fathom how _she_ of all people would let the boy and his friends escape, how _she_ could lose her wand to a _house-elf_, how _she_ could fail him as she did. She couldn't either.

"Out of all of you," he spat, still staring directly at her, "I am most disappointed in _you,_ Bellatrix. As much as I would like to blame Lucius for this folly, I must admit that it was _you_ who lost your wand, _you _who let them escape... and I must punish you accordingly."

Bellatrix did not look surprised; she knew that it was her who had let the Dark Lord down the most and that she deserved to be punished. Somehow, the mudblood had retrieved the Sword of Gryffindor, an item that was _supposed _to be locked up safely in her vault. She knew that she could not keep this from her master, for he would be even angrier if she did not mention it to him. But before she could muster up the courage tell him of the theft, he spoke again.

"Lucius, take your family and go. I wish to speak with your sister-in-law _alone._"

Narcissa squeezed her sister's knee, seeming to tell her, _It'll be alright._ Bellatrix wanted to scoff- his disappointment in her was twenty times more painful than any punishment she may receive- but she bit her tongue and nodded, patting Narcissa's hand in reply. One by one, the Malfoys exited the hall. Finally, Voldemort turned to her.

"Bella," he spoke. _He knows. _"Is there something you wish to tell me?"

The tone of his voice was enough to send chills down even the bravest man's spine. If looks could kill, she was sure she'd be long gone. She could feel his hands around her neck, squeezing until her air flow was cut and she was dead. Instinctively, she grasped her throat, only to discover that it was just her imagination- for now.

"Master," she choked, "I am sorry, the mudblood she- she had the sword. I do not know how, I do not know why! If they have _that_, then maybe they- they-"

"Silence!" He slapped her, drawing blood from her lip, "Do you think that I am here for your pathetic apologies and excuses?" Silence. "I asked you a question, Bellatrix! Didn't your mother ever teach you to respect your superiors?"

"Master, I-" she drifted off, the sting of his words surpassing the sting of his hand.

"Well, Bella?"

"No... you are not here for that, but I-"

He slapped her again, causing her to gasp sharply. "Do. Not. Question. Me," he breathed, his face inches away from her own. "_Crucio,_" he breathed, the spell hitting Bellatrix with great force.

But she did not scream, she did not writhe; she simply fell to the ground and lay there, bracing herself for another blow. Her eyes were closed and her chest was heaving; she could not bare to look at her master after she had shamed him in such a way. His footsteps creaked on the hardwood floor, and as they neared her limp body, she could not help but tense up and ready her body for another curse. But it did not come. Instead, he bent down and brushed the sweaty tendrils of hair from her face.

"I expect you tonight, as usual," he wiped the blood from her split lip, "I hope you will learn that the Dark Lord is not always this merciful, my dear. Oh and do try to clean yourself up, Bella. You're bleeding."

Bellatrix could hear the menace in his voice, but she did not dare question it. She was lucky that she had only endured one bout of the Cruciatus Curse and a bloody lip. If Lucius were in her place, she suspected he'd be a lot worse off.

"Until tonight," Voldemort stroked her cheek and rose to his feet.

She waited until she heard the sound of apparition before she opened her eyes again. _Until tonight. _

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><p>"Lucius, stop squirming! You're only going to make it worse!"<p>

Narcissa Malfoy was currently attending to her husbands wounds, and the mixture of his fidgeting and her thoughts were adding to the difficulty of the task. If the Dark Lord had done this much damage to his face, she couldn't even imagine how her sister would look when he was finished with her. _Bella..._ She couldn't fathom how Bellatrix could be beaten and abused, shot down, tortured and assaulted and still love the man with every fibre of her being. He was going to be the death of her, Narcissa was sure of it.

As if on cue, the Dark Lord's voice followed by what sounded like a slap resonated through the hallway. She inwardly winced, before setting down the rag she was using, now soiled with her husband's blood, and moved to close the kitchen door.

"It'll be alright," Lucius broke the silence, "Bellatrix is a strong woman, she'll- she'll...be alright."

And for the first time in what seemed like years, Narcissa wept. She wept for her son, who was dragged into a world of murder and death, who was scared out of his wits and who, she prayed for every day to see another sunrise. She wept for her husband, who had gotten them into this mess in the first place, who she loved more than any other man in the world and who she was frightened for. She wept for her sister, who was irrevocably in love with the one man who would never love her back, who killed without mercy and who believed that the Dark Lord could never do wrong. But mostly, she wept for herself, for the fear of losing her family, for the fear that she would die at any moment and for the fear that she wouldn't. Besides, she was due for a good cry.

"Cissa, it'll be okay," Lucius scooped up his wife into his arms and held her close to his chest.

"You don't know that, Lucius," she whispered, calming down, "Who knows? He could walk through that door at any moment and kill us all. Bella could be lying, dead in our entrance hall and we can't do anything to stop it! Draco..."

"Is upstairs, safe," he finished. _For now._ "It'll be alright, Narcissa. _She'll _be alright. _We'll _be alright."

Defeated, Narcissa quieted. Lucius kissed her softly on the head, and rubbed the small of her back, glad that she was finally calming down. He hated to admit it, but he too was scared of what the Dark Lord may do to his sister-in-law. Sure, he wasn't particularly fond of her (she wasn't particularly fond of him, either), but she was his wife's sister, the only family she had left. Their family couldn't afford to lose her, no matter how obsessed with her master she may be.

"Thank you, Lucius," Narcissa forced a smile.

"You're welcome, love," he smiled back and kissed her. The two remained in a loving embraced, enveloped in themselves and finally, at peace until _slam! _

"What was that?" Narcissa asked, startled. The floorboards leading to the kitchen creaked and the knob turned. "Lucius..."

But it was not an enraged Lord Voldemort that waltzed through the kitchen doorway, but instead a disgruntled Bellatrix- and she was on a warpath.

"Bella, your lip! And your cheek! You're bruising and-"

"Cissy, I'm fine! Lucius, give me your wand."

"My-" Lucius started.

"Yes! Your wand! Now!"

Not wanting to enrage her more, Lucius obligingly handed over his wand.

"_Episkey_,"Bellatrix mumbled, and her lip was healed. She threw the wand back to Lucius with a great force, causing the man to jump and catch it.

"Bella," Narcissa spoke, "Are you alright? I mean, if you need some place to stay tonight, I'm sure we could let you have one of the guest rooms and-"

"I'm fine, Cissy!" Bellatrix yelled. Realising that her sister had only been trying to help, she attempted to console her, "Really, Cissy. I'm fine. Thanks for the offer, but I already have accommodations for the night."

Narcissa stared at her sister in disbelief. After all that the man had done to her, she was still going to go back to him!

"Lucius, love, could you give us a moment?"

Not willing to deny his wife time with her sister, he nodded.

"I'll see you later," Lucius spoke softly, kissing Narcissa's hair. She smiled back, and he left.

"Bella," she said, turning to her sister, "After all of this? You're still going to...to...?"

"Of course, Cissy! He is the Dark Lord!"

"He just can't do anything wrong in your eyes, can he? He could probably kill Lucius and I and you wouldn't even second guess him!" Narcissa's anger had risen to the point that the soft-spoken woman was now yelling.

"Cissy, you know I-"

"No I don't know, Bellatrix! I don't know what you would or wouldn't do anymore!"

Bellatrix winced at her sister's use of her full name; she'd only ever used it when she was angry with her.

"He doesn't love you, Bella," she continued, softer this time, "He _can't _love you. He never will."

Bellatrix's features hardened. Her mouth was thrown ajar and her eyes seemed to pop out of their sockets.

"How. Dare. You!" she screamed, "How _dare_ you speak of him in that way! How _dare_ you act like you know how he feels or who he is! He is the most powerful man in the whole of the wizarding world, in the _entire_ world and you act like he's _Lucius_, or something! You don't know him!"

"Apparently, neither do you," Narcissa retorted, her voice now cold. Bellatrix attempted to grab her hand, to do _something_ to try and make her sister understand, but Narcissa shoved her away. "No, don't _touch_ me. We'll talk when you've gained some sense! Until then..."

And with that, Narcissa left the room, leaving a stunned Bellatrix behind.

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><p>"Is she-" Lucius started.<p>

"I...don't want to talk about it. I'll go get Draco, let's go out to dinner," Narcissa replied.

Lucius nodded, and went to get his coat.

"She'll never understand," Narcissa whispered to herself, "She'll never understand."

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><p>AN: Would you be a doll and Read & Review?


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Guess what I don't own? _Harry Potter? _You're right!

A/N: Thanks for the reviews, everyone. I love you guys!

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><p>"She is late, Nagini."<p>

Voldemort tapped his untrimmed fingernails along the base of the table. He was not furious, he just could not grasp why the woman was not prompt, as usual.

"You forget, my Lord, that she does not have a wand. She cannot simply apparate into your bedroom," Nagini replied, obviously annoyed with her master's anxious demeanor.

"Ah, yes, Nagini. Thank you for being so _insightful_."

"I am only trying to help, my Lord," the snake gave what appeared to be a shrug before slithering out of the door.

"Bella, Bella, Bella... what am I going to do with you?" Voldemort stared out of the window of his study, watching as the sun fell over the forest surrounding Riddle Manor.

In all honesty, he _hated_ the muggle inhabitance with every fibre of his being, but his only other choice would be to stay at Malfoy Manor and after their skirmish earlier that day, he did not want to even set foot in the place. It was still unfathomable how his Bella could _fail_ him the way she did. He had not waited sixteen years to kill Harry Potter only to find that she had let him escape. He might have expected something like this from Lucius, but _never _her. He was brought out of his trance by a knock at the door and, realising that it was probably Bellatrix, he moved to let her in.

"You're late, Bella."

"I am aware my Lord, but I have no wand and I simply could not-"

"Ah, yes. That is exactly what Nagini said."

"The snake, my Lord?"

"Of _course_, Bellatrix!" he snapped, "Speaking of which..." He reached into the pocket of his robe and produced a wand. It was not her original, but it would certainly do.

Bellatrix's face lit up, "Thank you, my Lord! Master, thank you!" She did not know how she could repay him for his kindness, especially after the disservice she had done him earlier that evening.

"There are ways, Bella, remember this."

Bellatrix looked up at him puzzled as to what he was referring to, but realised that he had probably read her mind. _Ah, yes,_ _Legilimency._

"Have you eaten?" Voldemort asked, ushering her into the foyer and shutting the door behind them.

"Master, Narcissa put me out and-"

"That is not the answer to my question, Bellatrix."

She seemed to always find excuses for even the most mundane of questions, and as Voldemort was becoming increasingly irritable, he could not tolerate them today. If she didn't stop soon, he wasn't sure what he would be forced to do.

"No, my Lord. I have not," she replied defeated. She was lucky that she was still invited into his bed after the day's events; she did not want to push him.

She half expected him to sit her down at his dining room table and allow her to gorge her face in delicious food. Hell, even a slice of toast would be acceptable to soothe the hunger she was feeling. But the Dark Lord did neither of these, and instead grasped her by the arms and turned her to face him.

"Good," he sneered, his nails digging into her flesh, "Maybe now you will learn that you deserved to be punished far more than I chose to punish you. Apparently, you sister has made sure of that." He paused, observing the expression on the woman's face, "You may eat later, if you behave."

She nodded and followed him up the stairs, her new wand grasped tightly in her hand. The fact that he hadn't tortured her already was promising, but something inside of Bellatrix felt that the whole situation seemed off. _You're being ridiculous!_ she thought to herself.

Voldemort gave a low chuckle, and assuming that he had read her thoughts again, she blushed and followed him into the bedroom. Shutting the door behind her, he made quick of his work. Their clothing vanished and he drank in the sight of her. She was bruised, but he was too caught up in the moment to punish her for not fully healing herself. After all, that would just add to the purple and brown tattoos that littered her body.

"Bella," he spoke, his tone almost primal.

"Master," she replied, her eyelids drooping.

He swooped down like a snake to a mouse, devouring her whole. She was his plaything, his little _whore_. He could beat her to a pulp and she would still come back that night, begging for him, _wanting_ him. She was his most loyal, his right-hand woman and she'd do _anything _to please him. That's exactly the way Voldemort liked it.

She scratched her nails down the length of his back, and though he could not see it, he was sure that she had drawn blood.

"Whore," he spat grabbing hair hair in his fist and slamming her head into the headboard. He was sure she did not mind, after all, she'd do _anything _to be close to him.

It was true that Bellatrix did not mind his name-calling, or his abuse- that was who he was and she would not change it for the world- but she wanted _more. _She was too quickly tiring of the same routine: she was servant, he was master, they'd have sex, she would leave. It was not _enough._

"Not enough, Bellatrix?" his cold voice interrupted her thoughts, "Ah, you forget that you leave your mind open, my dear. I can hear you, I can _see _you." With a great force, he threw her from the bed. "_I _am not enough for _you, _Bellatrix?"

"No, my Lord, you are! I am sorry, I-"

"SILENCE!" he screamed, reaching off of the mattress and pulling her hair so that she looked at him. "I believe that we are finished for the evening."

"My Lord, I am sorry!"

"Bellatrix..." he warned, and she knew not to press him any further.

She dressed in silence, willing herself not to cry, _ashamed_ that again she had disappointed him.

"Perhaps tomorrow night, you will learn to behave yourself," Voldemort said, the ice in his voice still apparent.

"My Lord, I have no place to go."

"Find somewhere, Bella. Now- get out of my sight."

With a sigh and a look of longing in his direction, she disapparated. The pop of the magic had startled Nagini, who was returning from her nightly hunt.

"She is gone? Already?" the snake hissed, curling herself around the baseboard of the bed.

"She has displeased me, Nagini. Do not press the subject."

"I am simply asking a question, Master. I only want what is best for you."

"And pray tell, Nagini, what might that be?"

"You care for her, my Lord," the snake spoke, already on thin ice.

"I care for no one but myself, Nagini. She is a plaything, nothing more."

"There is something more, my Lord-" And suddenly, the snake was thrown back from the foot of the bed and into the dressing table. She hissed wildly and dared to bare her fangs.

"You ignorant animal! Get out! Now!"

Nagini glared at him before slithering out of the room.

"There is nothing more," Voldemort said to himself, "Nothing more."

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><p>After what had seemed like the hundredth time she'd knocked on the door, a pyjama-clad Lucius came to her rescue.<p>

"Bellatrix? I though you were-"

"Lucius, do not question me. It is pouring rain and I've been out here for twenty minutes. Let. Me. In." she snapped, drenched and irritable.

"Bella?" A soft voice from behind Lucius called, "You're soaked! Come inside!"

Narcissa led her sister into the foyer where she could properly dry herself before going upstairs. Bellatrix hoped that the dim light would hide her face, because she was sure that the Dark Lord had done a number to it, and she did not want her sister to condemn her even more.

"Why'd you come back?" Narcissa asked, her voice filling the empty room, "Oh _god_ Bella, your face!" She illuminated her wand to better survey the damage, "Why do you let him do this to you, Bella?" She sighed and stood, moving towards the door, "Stay put, I'll be right back."

Bellatrix did _not_ like to be taken care of, especially by her younger sister, but in the state the she was in, she knew that she would not be able to do it herself. Narcissa returned shortly, holding a wet rag and a vial of some kind of topical solution.

"This will sting, Bella," she warned, playing the rag onto her sister's face. But Bellatrix did not flinch or gasp; she simply sat there, dazed. "You can have the guest suite, I've had it ready for you just in case well, you know..."

"Yes, Cissy. I _know_," Bellatrix retorted.

She expected Narcissa to tell her "I told you so", or maybe even leave her out in the storm; she didn't expect her sister to care for her after she had been rejected by her master. _Perhaps tomorrow night, you will learn to behave yourself_. His voice rang in her ears, promising her that she was still garaunteed a place in his bed tomorrow. She didn't expect her sister to understand, she didn't expect her to agree or to keep quiet, but it seemed that Narcissa understood _why_ Bellatrix had to go back to him, or at least, she hoped she did.

"Cissy," she started, breaking the silence, "I-"

"I know, Bella, _I know._"

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><p>AN: R&R means Read & Review! :)


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own _Harry Potter_. This is extremely unfortunate.

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><p><em>"Bella," a voice whispered, "Come, it is time."<em>

_"Time for what, Master?" she inquired, grasping blindly in the dark to find him. _

_"You will see soon enough," he replied, playing with a tendril of her unruly hair._

_Faster than lightning, she spun around and flung herself at him. To her surprise, he caught her and held her close, kissing her forehead. He took her hand and led her through the darkness, and she clung to him as if he were the only living soul left in the world._

_"I had been wondering whether or not I should tell you, Bella. You do not seem to do well with change."_

_Bellatrix scoffed, but let him continue, fearing what he may do if she disrespected him. Whether he had not heard her or he had let it slide was a mystery, but he did not react to her remark and spoke once more._

_"It seems by now you have realised your nephew has been performing poorly," he said, "and as you know, I do not accept weakness in my ranks. Therefore, I have decided that he will pay for his actions."_

_"My Lord, I beg of you, please do not kill him. He is only a boy, he knows not what he is doing!"_

_"Calm yourself, Bellatrix," he warned, "I am not going to kill the boy."_

_She breathed a sigh of relief. The Dark Lord had decided to spare her nephew's life and in turn, spare her sister's. She could not bear to think of what Narcissa would do if he were to murder her only son. "Oh thank you, Master, thank-"_

_"You are, Bella."_

_"W-what?" she sputtered, hoping her ears had deceived her._

_"Are you daft, Bellatrix? Are you deaf?" he questioned, his voice rising, "I shall repeat it for you, in layman's terms. I am not going to kill Draco, Bella. _You _are."_

_"But, Master, surely there is-"_

_"Do you dare defy me, Bellatrix? Do you dare question my judgement?" _

_"No, my Lord, but please-"_

_"Bellatrix, you disrespectful whore!" he screamed at her, his hand closing around her throat, "Bella! Bella!"_

"BELLA!"

But it was no longer Voldemort's voice screaming her name; it was Narcissa's.

"Bella, are you alright? You were yelling in your sleep and I-"

"I am fine, Cissy. T'was a nightmare, is all," she replied, running a hand through her hair.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Narcissa pressed, her voice volume returning to normal.

"Not particularly," Bellatrix admitted. She flipped her legs over the side of the bed and crossed to the boudoir. "What time is it?" she asked.

"Nearly seven," Narcissa responded.

"Did I wake you?"

"Of course not, Bella. I've been up for hours, I just...needed to think."

In reality, Narcissa hadn't gotten any sleep at all. While Lucius snored softly beside her, she had sat wide awake, pondering the fate of her family. She was a strong woman, and it seemed that with her husband's multiple follies, she would be the sole person protecting them. Not that she minded, of course, it was just an awfully stressful task.

"Cissy, I wanted to...thank you properly for, you know, letting me in last night," Bellatrix broke the silence, "I was awful to you and you didn't have to."

"You're my sister, Bella and besides Lucius and Draco, you're the only family I've got left. I couldn't just leave you out there in the rain," Narcissa laid a comforting hand on her sister's shoulder. But Bellatrix cringed, and as if she had been burned, Narcissa quickly removed her hand. "Have I said something?" she asked, worry filling her voice.

"No, it's not you, it's..." Bellatrix lifted the sleeve of her nightdress to expose her left forearm. She motioned to the writhing snake, "He's calling."

Narcissa groaned inwardly. If the Dark Lord was calling, it meant that their conference room would soon be filled with Death Eaters and, as much as she _delighted_ in playing host to all of them, it was much too early for such occasion. _And if it's this early,_ she thought to herself, _it must be something important._

Quickly throwing on a dressing robe, Bellatrix made her way downstairs. Narcissa followed in suit, passing a groggy Draco as she did so. He clutched his arm in pain and Bellatrix scoffed. Perhaps she was a masochist- she had been told so many times by her estranged husband- but she did not believe the mark to hurt too badly. Her nephew was simply weak, just like his father, and if her dream last night had any relevance to his fate, she was sure that his weakness would be his downfall.

"Good morning, love," Narcissa greeted her son, "Did you sleep well?"

Draco nodded, but his face told her otherwise. Narcissa suspected that he was having nightmares again, and really, who could blame him? After all of the events that had happened over the Easter holiday, she'd be having nightmares as well (that is, if she slept at all).

"Stand up straight, boy!" Bellatrix remarked, slapping Draco's back, "You know how the Dark Lord wishes his Death Eaters to carry themselves with _dignity._"

She wasn't trying to be rude, nor was she attempting to embarrass him; she was simply trying to save him from what might await him if he displeased the Dark Lord. Narcissa however, did not see it this way and glared daggers at her elder sister.

"Come Draco, let's find your father," she said. And with that, the pair headed down the hall to find Lucius.

Rolling her eyes, Bellatrix continued down the corridor. Knowing her comrades, it would take the rest of the Death Eaters at least an hour to arrive at Malfoy Manor. _Half of them are probably still sleeping,_ she thought to herself. It sickened her to know that many of the ranks only served their master because they were frightened, ignorant, or both. _She_ however, was loyal through and through; she sat nearly fifteen years in Azkaban waiting for him, her loyalty never wavering. The same could not be said for the rest of them.

"I am glad to see that you've gotten dressed on my part, Bella," called a voice from behind her.

She jumped and turned to face Voldemort, "My Lord, I had assumed it was urgent and that you would not like to be kept waiting, so I..."

It was then that she realised how scantily-clad she truly looked. Her dressing gown had unraveled exposing her nightdress. The satin fabric clung to her every curve and the plunge of the neckline displayed her ample cleavage. Embarrassed, she grasped the tie of her robe to cover herself, but before she could wrap herself in the plush fabric, he stopped her.

"Don't," he ordered.

And with that, he pounced. He caught her lips with his and backed her against the hallway wall. It was true that at any second, someone might come waltzing down the way, unaware that the Dark Lord was practically devouring her whole, but she did not mind. In fact, the danger of their escapades made them all the more alluring, all the more _real_.

Voldemort chuckled into the base of her neck, "My dear, you really _must_ learn to close your mind. What would your husband think?"

"There is nothing to hide, Master," Bellatrix replied, savouring the feeling of his lips upon her skin, his teeth nipping at her neck, marking her as his own. "And besides," she continued, struggling to keep her train of thought, "Rodolphus is dead to me. The last I heard of him, he was bedding some French slut, fresh out of Beauxbatons."

"Ah, Bella, you _are _a hypocrite," Voldemort chastised, "How would he feel if _he_ knew that _you_ were sleeping with _me_?"

"I don't care," she admitted, "_He is dead to me_."

"As he should be, Bellatrix."

The creaking of floorboards was the only thing that interrupted the pair from their indulgence.

"I have decided that you shall sit on my immediate right today, Bella," he whispered in her ear, "Five minutes."

And as quickly as he had appeared, the Dark Lord left. _His right,_ Bellatrix smiled to herself, _his right-hand woman._

"What are you doing?"

It was Narcissa's voice, and by the tone that she was using, she already knew.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Cissy," Bellatrix replied nonchalantly, hoping that her sister would drop the subject.

"Oh _do _quit with the games, Bellatrix!" Narcissa huffed, "I _saw_ you. I'm not blind."

"Why were you watching?" Bellatrix snapped.

"It is _my _house!"

"Didn't mummy ever teach you not to spy on people, Narcissa? Or are you just too nosy to know the difference?" Bellatrix's tone was bitter. How _dare_ she spy on the Dark Lord? It was a travesty!

"I am not in the mood, Bella," Narcissa announced, continuing down the hall towards the meeting.

"_I am not in the mood, Bella_!" Bellatrix mimicked.

"Oh, you really _are_ childish, Bellatrix!" sighed Narcissa. She pushed open the door to the conference room and ushered her sister inside.

Narcissa was surprised to see her sister pass up her usual seat. Was Bellatrix really _that_ angry with her? It wasn't as though she were truly spying on them; they'd been in the middle of the corridor, anyone could've walked by.

"Bella, where are you going?" she asked.

But Bellatrix continued to scale the length of the table until she reached the head and as if she thought she were royalty, she took a seat to the right of the Dark Lord's chair. A few Death Eaters gawked, some whispered amongst themselves, Narcissa looked livid; yet Bellatrix did not care, it was apparent that she was his favourite.

Voldemort acknowledged her with a brief nod of his head and turned to the rest of his allegiance. "Everyone, quiet! Take your seats!" Once everyone had been seated, he continued, "I suppose you are all wondering why I have brought you here at such an early hour." A few Death Eaters nodded in response. "I have received news from Hogwarts that there is to be a rebellion. Is this correct, Amycus?"

The brown-haired man looked up unexpectedly. "There is, my Lord. They call it _Dumbledore's Army_, or so I've been told. We've only just discovered them."

"We believe that they may know the whereabouts of Harry Potter," Alecto Carrow cut in, finishing her brother's thoughts. "We have tortured a few, to see what they know. The group is being led by Neville Longbottom, a Gryffindor."

Bellatrix burst out laughing. "Longbottom?" she questioned.

"Bella..." Voldemort warned, and she shut her mouth. "Continue, Alecto."

"As I was _saying_," the pudgy woman continued, shooting the Bellatrix a dirty glance, "Longbottom will not talk. We have questioned him on countless occasions, Snape has even used Veritaserum, yet no avail."

"Then perhaps," Voldemort sneered, "You are wasting your time."

The Carrows bowed their heads, not wanting to face their master's disapproval.

"As of...yesterday," he continued, "The boy and his friends were _here_ in this very house. Yet, Lucius failed to secure them...and they have escaped."

Bellatrix looked up in surprise. _Why does he not mention me?_ she asked herself, _I_ _am to blame as well._

Voldemort threw her a glance, appearing to say, _I have my reasons, Bella. Do not question me. _He looked back at Lucius. "They are in the wind, along with the goblin and the Sword of Gryffindor."

The table erupted in gasps, the Death Eaters staring at each other in disbelief.

"Silence!" he ordered, and the table became quiet once more. "Correct me if I am mistaken, but the Sword _was _to be in your vault, was it not, Rodolphus?"

Rodolphus, who had been picking at his nails with his wand, snapped his head in surprise. "W-why, yes, my Lord. It was."

"The problem is," Voldemort continued, "I was told that your vault was impenetrable. _How _exactly, would one steal from an impenetrable vault?"

"I-I do not know, my Lord," Rodolphus answered.

"Bellatrix has informed me that the Goblin claims it was a copy. Frankly, I am not convinced."

"If anyone is to be punished," Rodolphus exclaimed boldly, "It should be _her_!" He pointed a finger at his wife.

"_Crucio!_" Voldemort shouted, pointing his wand at Rodolphus. The man fell to the floor, writhing. "The vault is in _your_ name, Rodolphus, therefore it is _your _responsibility. Not your wife's, not your brother's, _yours._" He turned to Amycus once more, "I expect you to disband this _army_ by any means necessary. I would be sorely disappointed if you were to be outwitted by mere _children_."

Amycus nodded, glancing down at Rodolphus, who was still twisting and turning on the hardwood floor.

"You are all dismissed."

* * *

><p>"He called us at nearly seven in the morning for <em>that<em>?" Lucius asked his wife as they exited the conference room.

"Quiet, Lucius! He will hear!" Narcissa hushed him. She looked over to see the Dark Lord leave the room, with Bellatrix in tow. "She follows him like a lost puppy, Lucius," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I cannot take much more of this."

"That makes two of us, love," he responded, placing his hand on the small of her back and leading her to the foyer, away from Bellatrix and away from the Dark Lord.

* * *

><p>"Why did you not mention me?" Bellatrix asked later that night, as they lay tangled in a mess of sheets, "Surely they all must know I was involved. After all, it was <em>my<em> vault."

"Do not press this, Bella," he warned, tightening his grip on her waist, "I have my reasons and I will not disclose them with you."

She nodded and rested her head on his chest, content with her current situation. She did not want to press matters that he did not want pressed, no matter how much they may pertain to her.

"A wise decision indeed, Bella," he responded, and Bellatrix mentally kicked herself for leaving her mind open again. "Now, go to sleep."

She yawned and obeyed, blissfully content and wildly unaware of her master's reasoning for not outing her for her involvement in the skirmish.

In reality, Voldemort himself did not understand why he chose not to mention her. He had originally decided that it was because he did not want to lose his plaything, his little pet. Now, he wasn't so sure.

"My Lord."

It was Nagini and she had now interrupted his thoughts for the third time in two days.

"What is it, Nagini?" he asked the snake.

"I see you have forgiven her," she responded, slithering up the bed post.

"No," he commanded, "Off!"

Nagini sank back to the floor, hurt by her master's words.

"So she may share your bed but I may not?" she spat, "Why is she so special?"

"She is not _special,_" he hissed at her, "She is simply a distraction, a plaything. Nothing more, Nagini."

"You say this so often, Master," Nagini spoke once more, "But I have yet to see any proof." And with that, the snake slithered out of the door.

Voldemort sighed irritably, angry with the world. How could Potter have escaped? How could he have been so foolish? How could _she_ have been so foolish? He did not know. Tracing the bruises that littered Bellatrix's back, he pondered his true intentions. _She is a plaything,_ he decided, _nothing more._

* * *

><p>AN: Hi. I'm Christina and I like reviews.

ps. I'm ridiculously paranoid I made this too fluffy. It's probably not and I'm just hallucinating, but...you know... there's only so much you can do. _  
><em>


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: You guise! I can't even begin to thank you for all of your support! You're the best! I get to clarify things now, and I'm quite excited.

Red Bess Rackham-  
>Yes! That is exactly what I was going for with the whole "Bellatrix gets to stay" thing. It is a bit OOC and that's how I wanted it. I'm really glad that you caught it, because well, you'll see soon! Also, I think of Nagini as someone who can get away with a lot from Voldemort, solely because she is part of his soul. If he were to harm her, he'd be indirectly harming himself. And because she is basically part of him, I think she knows him better than he thinks she does. Thanks a lot for your opinions and reviews! :D<p>

Disclaimer: I was going to write a song about how I don't own _Harry Potter_, but I figured you wouldn't really want to hear it.

* * *

><p>Bellatrix awoke the next morning, grasping for the warmth of her partner. She rested her head on what appeared to be his chest, but upon further inspection, she realised that it was too downy, too cold. Puzzled, she opened her eyes, only to find that she was the only person occupying the bed, and that she was lying on no more than a mere pillow. She huffed; it figured that the one time she was permitted to stay with him, he would leave without warning. Did she really believe that he would have a change of heart and welcome her with open arms? If she did, she was foolish.<p>

The lack of his presence hit her like a ton of bricks; he was the Dark Lord and he would never love. She should have known, she really should have... but her feelings for the man always clouded her judgement, and she was always left feeling more empty and more confused than ever. At least he had left her in his room. Sighing, Bellatrix moved to grab her dressing robe and to wonder downstairs.

After the meeting the previous day, it seemed as though Lucius and Voldemort were on amiable terms (that, or Lucius was just too frightened to stand up to him), and the Dark Lord had not gone back to Riddle Manor.

_"It's too dangerous to be there,_" he had told her the previous night, "_The remaining aurors have probably already swarmed the place. Malfoy Manor is safe, for everyone involved."_

He was right. Although he was the Dark Lord, there were still many aurors who thought they stood a chance against his forces, and while the protective charms around the manor were virtually impenetrable, his _father_'s home was simply not safe.

Still, Bellatrix wondered if he was there now, plotting the next attack or finding a way to Harry Potter. She scoffed; the boy was so foolish! He really thought that he had a chance against her master, against the hundreds of troops he had rallied, against the _Elder Wand_! Soon, he would learn and soon, he would perish.

"Morning, Aunt Bella."

The sound of Draco's voice brought Bellatrix back to the present.

"Good morning, Draco," she replied nonchalantly, "I hear you go back to Hogwarts today, am I correct?"

"Mhm," Draco nodded, running a hand through his blonde hair, "At 11."

There was something off about her nephew's voice. It was as if he was on his guard all of the time, thinking any moment the Dark Lord may appear and kill him. Bellatrix couldn't blame him. After their family's indiscretion, she wouldn't be surprised if Voldemort _did _end up killing half of them. _They'd deserve it though,_ she thought to herself.

"Draco!" Narcissa called from the end of the hallway, "Breakfast is- oh."

"Nice to see you, too." Bellatrix stated, crossing her arms.

Lately, it seemed as though Narcissa was either cross with her or pitied her; there was no in-between.

"Well, Bella? Are you just going to stand there or are you going to come in and eat?"

Yes, Narcissa was definitely cross today. Bellatrix never understood why; it wasn't as if she had done anything intentional to cause her sister bitterness. Rolling her eyes, she followed her nephew into the dining room, where breakfast was currently placed on the table.

"Good morning, Bellatrix," Lucius said, peeking over the _Daily Prophet._

Bellatrix nodded curtly. "Let me see that when you're finished," she ordered, pulling out her chair and taking a seat across from him.

"I'm finished with this section," he responded, annoyed with his sister-in-law's lack of manners. Lucius passed over the classifieds and Bellatrix eagerly snatched it up.

"No important deaths, I see," she mused, scanning the obituaries, "Though I figure we'd know if we'd killed someone." She cackled to herself, amused.

"God, you are a whack job," Lucius mumbled under his breath.

"What, Lucius? I'm afraid you'll have to speak a bit louder," Bellatrix bit back, gulping down her glass of pumpkin juice, "I can't hear you over the-"

Her eyes widened and she spat her drink across the table. "What?" she screamed, "Cissy, come here! Look at this!"

Narcissa crossed the room to where her husband now sat, covered in orange liquid.

"Dammit, Bellatrix!" He cursed.

"Shut up, Lucius."

"But you-"

"I SAID _SHUT_ UP!"

Narcissa looked at her sister in bewilderment, but before she could reprimand her for her tone, Bellatrix thrust the newsprint into her face.

"Read the births."

"Bella, I don't see why-"

"Just read them! This one!" She pointed to a small article in the top right-hand corner.

"Fine, alright!" Narcissa huffed, "Remus and Nymphadora Lupin- nee Tonks- are proud to announce the...birth...of...their...son...?"

"The blood traitor!" Bellatrix yelled, her eyes wild with anger, "First Andromeda marries that _mudblood_ and now her daughter shacks up with some filthy half-breed! They're a _disgrace_! And now they've brought even more half-blood _spawn_ into the world!"

Narcissa paled at the sight of her sister's rage. Of _course_ she was angry at Andromeda for marrying a muggleborn, but Bellatrix looked as though she were going to kill the first person to get caught in her line of fire.

"I've lost my appetite," Bellatrix declared, ripping the classifieds from the table and tossing them into the fireplace.

"Bellatrix! What if I wanted to read those again?" Lucius whined, but he immediately clamped his mouth shut when she turned to glare at him.

"They're in the fire, where they _belong_," she responded. And with that, she stormed out of the dining room.

"I'm glad I'm going back to school," Draco announced from the corner where he'd been sitting quietly.

"You're welcome to take her with you," Lucius replied, blotting at the orange stains on his pyjamas, "She's a menace."

"She's my sister!" Narcissa interrupted.

"That doesn't make her any less annoying, love," Lucius retorted.

She knew her husband was right, but she needed to keep an eye on Bellatrix. She couldn't just throw her out onto the street, especially with the war going on. And Narcissa had no idea what the Dark Lord would do if she kicked her out. She knew that he held Bellatrix higher than the rest of his followers- _Probably because she sleeps with him_, she thought to herself- and he'd be absolutely livid if anything were to happen to her.

Narcissa didn't know what her sister saw in the man, besides his power, and she was baffled by the fact that Bella would continue to chase him, even though she _knew _he'd never love her. Of course she had tried to talk sense into her, but Bellatrix would shut down and scream at her until she was sure her lungs were raw. She was basically his slave, a meager _whore_... Narcissa couldn't bare to see her sister throw her life away, but there was virtually nothing she could do to stop it, and she would have to watch as her sister fell.

* * *

><p>Bellatrix was infuriated. Her head was pounding, her lungs were hurting and she was almost certain that she'd kill the next person who crossed her path. She didn't exactly know where she was, save the fact that it was some muggle village near Whiltshire, and she figured that she could wreak all of the havoc she wanted and no one would know the difference. That would make her feel better.<p>

She roamed the damp streets, the smell of piss and mold filling her nostrils. A few scantily-clad women walked the pavement, trying to pick up anyone that would give them a second glance. It probably wasn't wise for her to be by herself in such a dodgy place, but she'd just hex anyone who gave her trouble. As if on cue, a man called out to her.

"Hey, pretty lady!" She ignored him and kept walking. "Hey!" he persisted, "I'm talking to you!"

Before she could stop herself, she spun around and shouted the first curse to come to her mind.

"_Crucio!_" she screamed.

The man fell in a contorted mess a few feet away from her, writhing in a mixture of shock and pain. She smiled cruelly to herself; yes, she felt much better now.

"That wasn't very nice, Bella." whispered someone in her ear.

Bellatrix jumped and turned around to see none other than the Dark Lord standing beside her.

"F-following me now, a-are you?" she sputtered, her eyes bulging. _Why _exactly was he here?

"Perhaps," he responded casually. He pointed to the man, still writhing on the cobblestoned alley. "We'll have to wipe his memory, you know. Or you could just off him."

Bellatrix's eyes glinted. "May I, Master?"

"I would not have offered if I did not _want_ you to kill him."

She cackled and turned to the muggle lying before her. She was ready to play.

"_Diffendo,_" she spoke, her words almost carressing the air.

The man's skin was spliced open over and over and she watched as the dark red liquid poured from his wounds. He screamed. She laughed. Voldemort was aroused.

"Shut up!" Bellatrix commanded, but the man would not cease his cries. "You're no fun to play with," she pouted, and with one final flash of green light, she ended his life.

"Good girl," Voldemort's velvet voice praised her, "Throw him over there, I'm sure someone will find him eventually."

Bellatrix obeyed and propelled the body of the muggle into the nearby garbage heap.

"Now, Bella," he said as she turned around once more, "I am going to pay someone a little _visit_ tonight. I want you to accompany me."

Bellatrix's face lit up, "Who, may I ask?"

"Timothy Shackleford," he answered, "He works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement...Yaxley commented that he may be conspiring against us. We'll have to remedy this."

"I would be honoured, Master."

"Good," Voldemort responded, "I will meet you in the foyer after dinner. Do not be late."

And with that, he disapparated.

Bellatrix was elated; she no longer felt the anger she had earlier nor was she concerned with her traitorous sister's grandchild. She was _chosen_. She was his_ right-hand woman_.

* * *

><p>"Why are you in such a hurry, Bella?" Narcissa asked as her sister sprinted from the dinner table.<p>

"I've just got business to attend to, Cissy," Bellatrix replied, stopping to fix her hair in the nearby mirror.

"Just...be careful," Narcissa sighed.

"I'll be fine."

Bellatrix didn't see why her sister always found the need to fuss over everything. Besides, it wasn't as though this _Shackleford_ fellow was going to stand a chance against her, much less the Dark Lord. She crossed the hall and made her way to the foyer, where she hoped he would be waiting.

"I see you're actually on time for once, Bella," he smirked, "I must say, I am impressed."

Bellatrix fought the urge to roll her eyes for fear of what he may do, so a curt nod sufficed.

"Shall we?"

She grabbed onto his arm and he quickly apparated them to their destination.

The sun had almost set for the evening, but the few rays that were still visible illuminated the small village in which they had just arrived.

"Where exactly are we, my Lord?" Bellatrix inquired, brushing some dirt off of her skirts.

"Cornwall," he replied.

He motioned for her to follow him towards a small, modest home to their right. The shingles had begun to loosen and the paint was peeling from the woodwork, leading Bellatrix to believe that it was either a hideout or that Shackleford wasn't paid _nearly_ as much money as he should in his position.

"He lives here, Bella," Voldemort replied, annoyed, "What have I told you about closing your mind? Why do you continue to disobey my orders?"

"I am sorry, Master I-"

"Save it for later, Bellatrix. Right now, we've got _business to attend to_."

Voldemort burst through the door with great force, and the man lying on the couch woke with a jolt.

"Y-y-you?" he squeaked.

"_Y-y-you?_" Bellatrix mimicked.

"Bella," Voldemort warned, pointing his wand at Shackleford, "Good evening, Timothy. I trust you know why we are here."

"I-I don't know what you're talking about!" Shackleford said, reaching for his wand.

"_Expelliarmus_!" Bellatrix shrieked, and the wand flew from his fingers.

"There have been reports," Voldemort continued, "of a..._conspiracy_ in the Ministry. Rumour has it that _you_ are behind it. Is this correct?"

"No!" Shackleford yelled, cowering into the cushions, "I haven't done anything wrong!"

"You lie, Timothy, you lie."

And before Shackleford could do anything to stop it, Voldemort was probing his mind... talking to the werewolf and his auror wife... plotting against the Ministry with Kingsley... arguing with Pius Thicknesse...

"I think I've seen enough," Voldmort snarled, "He's all yours, Bella."

The Dark Lord didn't have to tell her twice.

"_Crucio!_" she shouted over and over again, "_Crucio!_ What's the matter, Timmy? Can't handle a little torture?"

Shackleford had fallen off of the couch and split his head on the corner of the coffee table. Blood spurted from his mouth as Bellatrix continued to curse him.

"P-please," he sputtered.

"Did you really think your death would be quick, Shackleford?" Voldemort laughed, "I think a little more punishment is in order, Bella."

Bellatrix smirked and nodded. Suddenly, Shackleford screamed and his entrails were pulled from his body.

"The Entrail-expelling curse?" Voldemort asked, surprised, "My, my you _are_ in a good mood today."

"I think I've had enough fun with him for one day," Bellatrix decided, twisting her wand and causing Shackleford's intestines to spin in the air.

"Very well, then. I'll finish him off," he pointed his wand at the half-dead man, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

Shackleford's eyes bulged and his mouth flew open, and then he was dead.

"I'm sure they'll find him in the morning," Voldemort sneered, "Come Bella, let us leave."

They apparated at once to the bedroom, where Voldemort immediately began to devour his lover once more.

He would never admit it to anyone, but seeing Bellatrix on the hunt aroused him like nothing else. She had no mercy and she would kill anyone who got in her way- that is, except _him_. He savoured the power that he held over her; she would do absolutely _anything_ for him and he used this to his advantage. He was almost certain that she'd kill her own sister if it meant that he was pleased with her. He was her undoing and she enjoyed teetering on the brink of insanity just to be in his presence.

"Master," she moaned from underneath him.

"Bella," he responded, growling into the base of her neck.

And just like that, she was unraveled. She was in a euphoria, she was _complete._

He was simply satisfied.

Rolling out from underneath him, Bellatrix attempted to catch her breath. Her chest heaved, her eyelids drooped.

"You have pleased me tonight, Bella," Voldemort said. She opened her mouth to speak, but he continued, "You may leave now."

Bellatrix's stomach dropped. "W-what?" she asked meekly, hoping she had misheard him.

"Did I stutter, Bella? I said you may go!"

Caught between crying and beating something to a pulp, she rose from the bed and threw on her robe.

"Goodnight," she murmured, hoping, _wishing_ that he would have a change of heart, her eyes pleading him to hold her.

But Voldemort simply nodded his head in response and closed his eyes.

Bellatrix exited his suite and sprinted towards her own as fast as her legs would carry her. Narcissa was right: He couldn't love her, he never _would._

* * *

><p>AN: I'm not very nice to Bella, am I? _  
><em>


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: I'm a beta on Pottermore, but I'm not Jo Rowling...

A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading. Sorry this chapter took so long, I'm a procrastinator. Thank you Nell for being such a lovely beta reader!

* * *

><p>Voldemort sat at his dressing table at Malfoy Manor, tapping the untrimmed fingernails of his left hand lazily on the wood. His right hand supported his chin, and he leaned over in deep thought.<p>

"Is there something bothering you, Master?" Nagini asked, sliding up the back of the chair to rest on his shoulders.

"The werewolves are... resistant, Nagini," he replied, ceasing the steady drumming of his fingers. "Greyback has said he will talk to them, but I see no progress. I am afraid I may have to _convince_ them myself."

"They are vermin, My Lord. You do not need them."

"Ah, but I do, Nagini. You see, they could be a great asset to my forces and although I suspect they will never join the Order's side, if they do not join us, they may pose as a threat."

"Perhaps you could bribe them, Master?" Nagini offered, "Offer them..._ compensation_ for their services?"

"Such as what, Nagini? They have no concern in blood affairs."

"Offer them victims... mudbloods, blood-traitors... anyone who dare defy you," she responded, hissing in his ear.

Voldemort's face lit up.

"Yes Nagini, wonderful. I shall summon Greyback after breakfast. They will be in our leagues by nightfall," he stroked the snake's head. "But now, I must go and see what the Malfoy's intend to feed me today."

Quite hungry herself, the snake slithered to the floor and went to go find something to feast on. Voldemort followed in suit.

* * *

><p>"<em>Prophet<em>, dear?"

Lucius nodded and Narcissa handed over the paper.

"How did Draco's return to Hogwarts go?" he asked, unraveling the twine from the newsprint.

"He seemed fine," Narcissa replied, something strange tinging her voice, " He hasn't written yet, so I can only assume it went smoothly."

Lucius cocked an eyebrow over his reading glasses. To the naked eye, it would appear that Narcissa was content with her son's departure- but Lucius knew better.

"I'm sure he _is_ fine, Cissa," he told her, "And term will be over in a few short months, we'll have him back in no time."

Lucius looked at his reflection in his goblet of pumpkin juice; he really did look awful. Purplish bags had formed around his eyes and stubble had begun to splatter his face with prickles. He turned the goblet side to side, surveying the damage that months of little sleep had brought him. He was exhausted, mentally and physically, and he was frightened for his family, for _himself_; he wasn't sure if he could keep this up any longer.

"Admiring yourself, Lucius?" A high, cold voice pierced the air.

Lucius jumped, splattering pumpkin juice onto the newspaper in which he hadn't even begun to read.

"My- my Lord," he stuttered, watching as Voldemort strode towards the table.

"My Lord," Narcissa bowed her head. "It is an honour to have you join us."

"I am aware," Voldemort replied smoothly, glancing towards the _Daily Prophet_.

Lucius offered him the paper, and he gladly accepted it.

"And what are we having, Narcissa?" He asked, fingering through the paper.

"A full breakfast, my Lord," the woman replied, setting down a plate of sausages and poached eggs.

Voldemort laughed hollowly, and for a moment Narcissa thought she had said something wrong.

"Pity," he remarked, "She went through the trouble of disemboweling him only to be plastered onto page seven."

Narcissa paled, "I am afraid I do not understand what you mean, my Lord."

"Your sister, Narcissa," Voldemort answered, "Read for yourself." He nudged the paper across the dark wood to let Narcissa have a better look. "And speaking of Bellatrix, why is she not present at breakfast?"

Narcissa's eyes widened as she scanned the article. "I-I will go and fetch her, my Lord."

Voldemort nodded curtly and Narcissa departed, _Daily Prophet _in hand.

"Lucius," he turned to the the only other person residing in the room, "I wish to speak to Fenrir today. I hope you do not object to the usage of your study."

"Not at all, my Lord."

"Good," he sneered, "Perhaps by then, you will have groomed yourself properly. Being involved in war is no excuse for looking the way you do."

"Of course, my Lord," Lucius replied, self-consciously brushing the stubble on his face.

* * *

><p>"What is <em>this<em>, Bella?" Narcissa exclaimed, bursting through the door of her sister's room and chucking the _Prophet_ at her sleeping body.

"W-wha?" Bellatrix mumbled, still half asleep.

"Oh _do_ get up! I've just prepared breakfast and the Dark Lord wants you to eat with us!"

Bellatrix rolled over, moaning. "It's too early, Cissy!"

"It's 8:30, Bella! That is nowhere near early. Now get _up_!"

She ripped the covers off of her incorrigible sister, causing Bellatrix, who was cocooned in them, to roll onto the floor.

"Ow!" she exclaimed, her red eyes darting towards Narcissa, "A simple nudge would have sufficed!"

Narcissa shrugged. "You look awful, Bella. Why are your eyes so red? And is that _blood_ on your cheek?"

"Probably," Bellatrix retorted, rising from the floor, "I had a bit of fun last night."

"I know, Bella," Narcissa spat, "Look."

She thrust the newspaper into her sister's hands and pointed to the article explaining what she had done the previous night.

_Timothy Shackleford, 43, of Cornwall was found deceased  
>and mutilated in his home early this morning.<br>The victim had multiple lacerations, including the disembowelment of his internal organs,  
>but the ultimate cause of death was the Killing Curse. Until his death,<br>Shackleford served as a member of the Wizengamot.  
>No suspects have been arrested in connection with this crime. <em>

Bellatrix smirked. "It doesn't say anything about _me_, Cissy. Who's to say I did it?"

"The Dark Lord."

"Oh."

"That's simply disgusting, Bellatrix! How could you _do_ that to a person?" Narcissa cried.

"It's easy, Cissy. First you-"

"I don't want to know," She interrupted. "Just... wash yourself up and get dressed. We're waiting."

And with that, Narcissa grabbed the newspaper and exited Bellatrix's room.

Bellatrix grabbed a simple black dress from her wardrobe and proceeded to the bathroom. Observing herself in the mirror, she found that she was indeed splattered with the man's dried blood. She cringed at the thought that she had _slept_ like that, and proceeded to rub her face until the rust-coloured flakes had been removed. She dressed quickly, knowing that the Dark Lord would not like to be kept waiting and that all hell would break loose if she took too long. Waving her wand, her hair piled onto the top of her head and with one last approving glance in the mirror, she left to venture down to breakfast.

"Record time, Bellatrix," Lucius remarked as his sister-in-law waltzed into the room. "That only took what, six minutes?"

Bellatrix's eyes narrowed and she stuck out her tongue in response.

"Good morning, Bella."

"My Lord," she sobered. "It is an honour to have you join us."

"So it is, Bella, so it is... I have a _request_ of some sorts to ask of you."

"Anything, my Lord."

Narcissa felt sick to her stomach. The way that Bellatrix looked at the man was absolutely sickening. Her eyelids drooped heavily and she seemed as though she wanted to devour him, the man who used her, her _master_. She knew that he couldn't possibly love her and yet she still treated him as if he were God himself. She doted upon him, she allowed him to destroy her... and still Narcissa sat and allowed her eldest sister to succumb to him.

"I would like you to go to your vault today, Bellatrix," the use of her full name meant that it was serious, "Make sure nothing has been _taken_. Do whatever you have must to secure it properly."

"Of _course_, Master," she answered.

"Good," he replied, "And Narcissa, there is no need. I am fully capable of getting my own food."

Narcissa withdrew the serving spoon from Voldemort's plate quickly, as if she had been burned.

"I am sorry, my Lord."

They ate in near silence, the only audible sound coming from Lucius whenever he read something interesting in the _Daily Prophet_. Only after the Dark Lord had excused himself to call Greyback, did Narcissa speak.

"What if the children _did_ take something else, Bella?"

"You heard the goblin," she replied, chewing on a piece of egg, "He said that the sword the mudblood possessed was a copy."

"You said yourself that you didn't believe that!"

Narcissa was right, Bellatrix _hadn't_ believed the goblin's cock and bull story. But it hadn't appeared that they had stolen anything else and she was sure that if they had, she would've found it on the girl's person.

"I think I'll be going now," Bellatrix decided, rising from the table. I'll see you later."

"Bella-"

"Goodbye, Cissy!" She yelled, and sprinted out of the room.

Narcissa groaned.

"Don't look at me," Lucius responded, "As I recall yesterday, I believe you said that she was _your _sister."

* * *

><p>"Madam Lestrange."<p>

"I need to enter my vault, Goblin. _Now_."

She thrust her wand in his face as to confirm that she was indeed herself, and the goblin nodded.

"Right away, Madam," he replied, ushering her to follow him.

The Dark Lord had instructed her to secure the vault by whatever means necessary. She did not know why the few items that he had entrusted her with were so important, but they were extremely valuable to him and in hand, to her as well. As Bogrod led her down the cavernous interior leading to her fortune, she grew increasingly paranoid that the mudblood may have indeed broken into her vault.

"Tell me, Goblin, when was the last time anyone attempted to enter my vault?"

"Why, last fall, Madam Lestrange, when you yourself had entered!"

"Good," she replied, satisfied with Bogrod's answer.

"And here we are," the goblin announced, exiting the cart and moving towards the entryway. Inside held a blind dragon, twisting at the sound of intruders, it's neck lacerated from it's bondings.

"Hurry up, I haven't got all day!" Bellatrix shouted, irritated.

"Of course, Madam," Bograd responded, grasping the clankers and shaking them frivolously.

The dragon cried out and shrank back, afraid of the pain that it was sure would come, and Bellatrix crossed towards the door. Bograd placed his palm along the mental and it opened, leaving Bellatrix alone with her treasure.

"I'll be waiting when you are finished, Madam."

Bellatrix nodded curtly and entered the vault. She was elated to find that the Sword of Gryffindor still resided in it's proper place and that the goblin had been telling the truth after all. Lord Voldemort's other possession sat high on a shelf, surrounded by various golden plates and bangles. She pointed her wand at the gold.

"_Geminio. Flagrante. Geminio. Flargrante,_" she uttered, her wand spurting the curses at the treasure.

Pleased with herself at the prospect of any intruder being burned and buried alive by her own fortune, she exited, stealing one last glance at the golden cup that now lie protected by her curses. She wondered why it was so valuable, after all the Dark Lord had not disclosed that information, but she knew he would be pleased to find that everything was accounted for.

"I am finished," she announced to Bogrod, who was propped up against a neighboring wall.

"That was rather quick, Madam."

"That is none of your concern, Goblin," she spat, waiting for Bogrod to get her past the dragon once more.

"My apologies, ma'am," he spoke over the clanking of the contraption in his hand and walked past the beast.

She followed in suit, anxiously waiting to disapparate back to the Manor to tell her master that the job was finished. They rode to the ground floor in silence, Bellatrix picking the dirt from under her talons, Bogrod afraid he may say something to further anger her.

"Good day, Madam," he said as they reappeared in the lobby.

But Bellatrix paid him no attention. Instead, she strode out of Gringotts, head held high and disapparated back to Malfoy Manor.

With a loud 'pop', Bellatrix appeared in the sitting room, where her sister was currently sipping a cup of tea. Narcissa jolted at the sound and tea spilled onto the saucer she held.

"Merlin, Bella! You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"Sorry, Cissy," she replied, preoccupied, "Where is the Dark Lord?"

"In the study," Narcissa responded, "But don't go in there quite yet! He is discussing matters with the werewolf."

"But this is ten times more important than coalitions with _half-breeds_!"

"He asked not to be disturbed, Bellatrix. Do you really want to disregard his wishes?"

Bellatrix glared at Narcissa for a brief moment, but the flash of anger on her face soon turned to excitement as she realized that Narcissa would want to know the news as well.

"Cissy. The vault," She exclaimed, "It's completely untouched! The sword _was_ a fake, everything is safe!"

Narcissa let out a sigh she hadn't realized she'd been holding. Oh yes, the Dark Lord would be pleased, perhaps he wouldn't kill them after all.

"That _is _great news, Bella," she stated genuinely.

"Yes, it is. Now if you'll excuse me..." Bellatrix moved to the door.

"Don't bother him, Bella," Narcissa warned.

"I won't! I'll just wait outside until they are finished."

Before Narcissa could protest, she slipped through the door and down the hallway. Bellatrix walked the length of the corridor before stopping at the study. The door was left ajar and voices could be heard from inside. She did not want to eavesdrop, but the temptation was all too convincing. She peered through the crack between the frame and the door and listened in.

"You do understand the severity of the situation, correct Fenrir?"

"Of course, my Lord."

"Then pray tell, why have you not talked to the clan yet?"

"I have, my Lord," Greyback responded, "But they will not join your cause, they do not care for the battle of blood."

"Pity," She watched as Voldemort twirled the Elder Wand between his fingers, "I would have offered them compensation for their efforts."

Like a dog listening for the clinking of food in a bowl, Fenrir's ears seemed to perk at the mention of rewards for their efforts.

"Tell your friends that if they join my cause, they may have all of the _food_ they so desire."

"So, you're saying that we might snack on any mudblood we may snatch?" Greyback was visibly drooling at the thought of fresh meat.

"Precisely," Voldemort replied casually, "Do you believe that this will _convince_ them?"

"I am most _certain_," Greyback licked his lips.

"Good. I will be paying them a visit later tonight to make _sure_ you have carried out your duties. You may leave."

Fenrir moved to the doorway and Bellatrix quickly sank back onto the wall, pretending she hadn't heard a word of their conversation.

"Lestrange," the werewolf greeted her through gritted teeth.

"Greyback," she replied.

"How's the husband lately, Bellatrix?" he jeered, "Or have you been too busy fooling around?"

"You know _nothing_ of me," she spat, "I don't have to justify myself to some _filthy half-breed_."

She smiled sweetly at him and watched as the werewolf's eyes bulged and anger flared through him. But before he could wrap his hands around her throat, she slipped through the crack in the door and slammed it in his face, leaving a disgruntled Greyback behind.

"My Lord," she greeted Voldemort.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you not to eavesdrop on _private_ conversations, Bellatrix?" His tone was sharp and cold, and Bellatrix knew that he was angry.

"I am sorry, my Lord, but I have news," she declared, backing up against the wall.

"I trust your mission was a success?" He asked, his demeanor suddenly changing. He approached her.

"Yes, Master. I have added multiple protections to ensure the safety of the vault. Everything is in place, even the sword! The one that the mudblood had, it was a _copy_!"

Voldemort's eyes widened in surprise, "It seems the goblin was indeed telling the truth, Bella."

He grasped a loose tendril of her hair that fallen from the pins that held it in place and she looked up at him longingly.

"So it does," she said huskily.

He traced patterns on the exposed skin of her chest with his wand, making her shiver involuntarily underneath him.

"I am pleased," he announced, his eyes roaming her body, "that you have not allowed you vault to be breeched after all. I could not afford to have you disappoint me as such."

And then he was on her, his lips leaving new marks on her slim neck. She opened her mouth to speak, but he cut her off.

"You know," he said, reveling in the feeling of her writhing against the wall, "Greyback fancies you. I have seen his mind."

Bellatrix managed to let out a cackle despite being barely aware of a word he was saying. All she could comprehend was the feeling of his lips on her skin and his hands on her body.

"He wants to _devour_ you," he continued, "It's a pity you're _mine_."

He was right; she was his, in every sense of the word. He owned her mind, her body, her soul, her _heart_... and she let him.

"Now what is it you wished to say, Bella?"

.And suddenly the feeling of his lips was gone and she was left staring into his red eyes.

"It was nothing, Master. Simply an... inquiry," she returned. Asking about the importance of the cup could wait because at the moment, she only wanted to be enveloped by him.

"I wish to know, Bella," he pressed, "What is it?"

Bellatrix paused, debating whether she should bring up the subject, but her curiously had gotten the best of her and before she could stop herself, she spoke.

"What is the importance of the cup?"

His face contorted from curiosity to anger in a matter of moments and Bellatrix immediately regretted asking.

"I am sorry, my Lord I was only-"

"_Crucio!_"

The surprise of the curse caused her to scream in surprise and she fell to the ground, cowering against the wall.

"_That_ is none of your concern, Bellatrix," he spat, crouching down to meet her face, "I suggest that you do not _inquire_ about it again."

She nodded quickly, trembling. Voldemort smiled sadistically at the woman who now showed fear before him.

"Tell me, Bellatrix," he jeered, "Do I frighten you?"

"N-no," she stuttered, attempting to calm herself.

"Such _lies_, Bella... _Crucio!_"

She writhed against the wall, silently cursing her foolish mind. He grasped her hair and pulled her up to face him.

"I will not have _cowardice _among my inner circle. Do you understand, Bella?"

"O-of course, my Lord."

"Good," he released his hold on her, "Now, go."

She scrambled to her feet, willing him to look at her so that she may give him a sufficient apology.

"I-I am sorry, my Lord."

"Of course. Now, leave me."

And with that, she exited the room, leaving a silent Voldemort to twirl his wand between his fingers. Strange though, she could've sworn she heard a quiet _"she will learn"_ before she broke down in sobs for the third time that week, all at the hands of the man she loved. Yet somehow, she doubted that she would. No, Bellatrix would _never_ learn.

* * *

><p>AN: I fought the urge to have Voldemort say "AT LAST. MY ARM IS COMPLETE AGAIN". It was quite difficult!

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	6. Chapter 6

A/N: It's been a long time, hasn't it? You can all smack me for not updating in nearly a year. I apologise profusely for doing so. But hey, I'm trying!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

* * *

><p>"<em>This <em>is your headquarters?"

"What did you expect, my Lord? A manor?"

"No, Fenrir, I most certainly did not. But I would have thought that your _species_ would have evolved from a cave in the forest."

He fought back the urge to rip out Voldemort's throat. Fenrir was sure that even the Dark Lord knew of his disdain for him, but because he was such a valuable piece for the Death Eaters to have, Voldemort kept him around anyway.

"It's the only place they feel safe, my Lord," he spoke, through gritted teeth. "Normal wizards do not accept us for what we are."

"That _is_ a pity," Voldemort remarked. "Do go first, Fenrir. I do not know the way." He motioned forward.

Rolling his eyes, Greyback uttered "_Lumos_" and stepped into the damp cavern. The darkness was blinding, an oxymoron that the Dark Lord did not fail to take note of.

"Did you not even invest in proper lighting, Fenrir?" Voldemort lit his wand and clung to the low ceiling of the cavern.

"We are werewolves, my Lord. We are adept to hunting at night," Greyback sighed, annoyed with his task.

"There is no need for your crossness, Fenrir. One more remark and I can assure you you'll regret your wording."

"I am sorry, my Lord," The light in the cave was becoming more visible, and voices could be heard from an open area not twenty yards ahead. "After you, Master."

"I really must object," Voldemort replied smoothly. "I doubt that your _friends_ will react positively to a strange man entering their headquarters."

"You are correct, my Lord," Greyback moved to the entrance to the stone room. "Friends!" he called, approaching the group of werewolves. "I have brought with me none other than the Dark Lord himself!"

A few murmurs echoed off of the concave walls.

"Silence!" he roared. "I demand that you show him the utmost respect!"

"An' why exactly should we do tha'?" a man called from the back of the assemblage. " 'e ain't done nothin' fer us!"

Anger bubbled up inside of him, but Voldemort knew that if he were to gain the alliance of the werewolves, he would first have to gain their trust.

"But you see," Voldemort laughed, twirling his wand between his fingers. "I am the most powerful wizard in the world. I have killed with the flick of a wrist, probed the minds of some of the most influential people known to man. I have-"

"Enough with tha chit-cha'!" the same werewolf called, moving towards the front of the group. "I once ripped a bloke's neck ou' with my pearly whites! Have you done tha' mista wizard? I think not."

The man started to laugh to himself and Fenrir looked to his master in fear, waiting for the flash of green light to spurt from his wand. However, the Dark Lord kept his composure, and slowly walked towards the man.

"And what, pray tell, is _your_ name, my boy?"

"Barnaby Wilkins and I ain't no boy!"

Barnaby was a lanky lad not over the age of twenty-five, with greasy brown hair and dirt that encrusted his features. Daft and naive, he dared to stand in front of Voldemort with smugness etched across his face. He was foolish and daring and the Dark Lord would have to teach him a lesson. Voldemort gritted his teeth.

"And I am Lord Voldemort, the most powerful wizard in the world. I had hoped I wouldn't have to repeat myself tonight, but I only blame the insolence of your filthy half-breed mind for not digesting my speech fully. You are lucky that I am merciful tonight."

"Voldemort?" Barnaby jeered. "Wha' kind of bloody name is tha'?"

"Barnaby, hold your tongue!" Greyback countered, moving to step in between the Dark Lord and his pack mate.

"No, Fenrir." Voldemort stuck out his hand and Greyback halted. He turned to the other werewolf. "You _are_ insolent, Barnaby. You doubt my abilities, you _are _foolish. Have you not heard of me? Have you not seen what I have done? I have risen from the dead! I am immortal and all powerful and you _dare_ to jeer at me? You _dare!_"

Voldemort was yelling now. Even Barnaby's once confident demeanor has shed, leaving him cowering in front of the Dark Lord. He fell to his knees, grasping at his throat.

"I'm s-sorry m-m-ma Lord-d!" he stuttered, his throat seeming to close up and his airway becoming increasingly tight.

"You told me of ripping a man's throat out with your own teeth, did you?"

"P-p-please." he choked.

"I have never had the fortune of ripping a man's throat out myself," Voldemort stood in front of the dying man. "I have my Death Eaters to do that for me. After all, blood does tend to stain. _Imperio._"

And with that, Barnaby's right hand moved to his neck, his sharp claws digging into the flesh. In one swift movement, his hand grasped his the inner lining of his throat and all at once jerked backwards, blood spurting and his hand a mess of artery and muscle. His eyes went glassy and he hunched forward, falling at Voldemort's feet.

A few audible gasps were heard from the audience, visibly distraught from witnessing one of their own's gruesome death.

"Does anyone else dare to question the Dark Lord?"

Silence.

"Excellent. Now, onto the order of business." Voldemort kicked the werewolf's body aside. "I have come here to enlist your kind. I do not ask for much, only that you work with Fenrir and the others as snatchers, to capture mudbloods and those fighting against us. If you consent, then you may keep any victim for any_ purpose _you wish. If not, then..." He motioned towards Barnaby's lifeless corpse, surrounded by a pool of blood and tissue. "Do we have a deal?"

Many werewolves, still stunned by the death of Barnaby, remained still. Other's simply nodded their heads in agreement, while a few brave souls voiced their newfound loyalty to Voldemort's cause.

"Fenrir will explain what you are to do tomorrow. I trust that you will all abide by our agreement?" He paused. "Good. As I have more pressing matters to attend to, I must be off. Fenrir, do lead the way."

And with that, the Dark Lord once again disappeared into the darkness, leaving his new found troops in a state of shock and despair.

* * *

><p>Bellatrix lounged on the chaise in the sitting room, levitating one of Narcissa's vases above the fireplace. It was a particularly frilly thing, with ornate blue flowers hand-painted on stark porcelain. It had been a wedding gift, as she recalled, purchased at an expensive china shop by their mother. Druella had spent hours in the store, fussing over "the perfect wedding present for the perfect daughter". Bellatrix scoffed; Narcissa had always been the favourite.<p>

Moving her wand back and forth, she watched as the flames danced across the glase of the ceramic vase, threatening to crack the vessel if it came to close to the blaze.

"Bellatrix!"

The sound of Lucius' voice filled the empty room and Bellatrix jolted, causing her to lose concentration and the vase to shatter on the wooden floor.

"Dammit," she swore, hoping that Lucius hadn't heard the noise.

"What are you doing? What was that noise? What did you break?" As if on cue, Lucius poked his head through the doorframe. "Bellatrix, you better not have broken anything, or so help me-"

"Or what, Lucius?" she countered, "You'll throw me out?"

Lucius' face reddened with anger and his left hand tightened around the door handle.

"Bellatrix, you can't keep prancing around here like you're the queen of the word!" he yelled, his hair flailing around his face. "The only reason you're still here is because you're the only family Narcissa's got left!"

"Like the Dark Lord would allow you to throw _me _out! I am his favourite!"

"More like his sex toy!" Lucius countered. "You have a husband! You are nothing but a piece of meat to him!"

Bellatrix was in a rage now, her eyes taking on the appearance of the flames in which she had only moments before been watching. She dug her nails into her palm, drawing blood, and pointed her wand at her brother-in-law.

"You no knowing, you filth! How _dare_ you speak of the Dark Lord in that way! You should be thankful that he even let you live after the incident in the Ministry!"

"If you hadn't let Potter use an unforgivable curse on you, he wouldn't have gotten away! You're mental, Bellatrix!"

"Do not blame this on me!" she shrieked. "I have been nothing but loyal to the Dark Lord! I have gone to Azkaban for him! I have done everything he has asked and more! I-"

"You love him."

Bellatrix sobered. "I do not, I-"

"You love him," Lucius repeated again, this time with more menace. "You love a man who will never love you back. Do you really think he will just wake up one morning and return your feelings? He cannot love you, he never will!"

Lucius' words sounded so similar to the ones that her sister had said previously, that Bellatrix briefly wondered if Narcissa had shared her feelings with her husband. But soon, the shock of his words wore off and Bellatrix did the only thing she could do.

"_Crucio!_" she shouted, and Lucius convoluted, screaming bloody murder. "_Crucio! Crucio! Crucio!_"

Bellatrix was in a fit of blind rage and as she stood there hovering over Lucius' mutilated body, writhing in pain, she screamed. She screamed so loud that she was sure the entire manor was filled with the sound of despair.

And it was.

No sooner had she screamed her last curse did Narcissa come flying through the door.

"Bellatrix! What are you-"

Narcissa stopped. The sight of her husband twitching on the hardwood floor like a dying animal was repulsive and to know that it was at the hand of her sister was entirely too much to take in.

"Get out."

"Cissy, I can-"

"GET OUT!"

Bellatrix had only heard her sister scream a handful of times in her life: when she was five and Bellatrix had cut her with a kitchen knife, when she gave birth to Draco, when her husband was sent away to Azkaban, when her only son was sent on an impossible mission that would only result in him dying and now, when her husband lay convulsing on the floor of their home, the result her own rage.

Bellatrix moved to the door and with one last look at her sister cradling her husband's sweat-covered head in her hands, she left.

* * *

><p>Hours later, Bellatrix hadn't bothered to change clothing, and her now wrinkled dress was becoming unbearably itchy. She pulled at the sleeves in an attempt to soothe her arms, but every small movement felt as though her skin were on fire. Sighing, she hoisted herself from her bed and moved sluggishly over to her wardrobe. Peeling her dress from her body, she stopped to look at herself in the mirror. It was true that Bellatrix was once a beauty, perhaps even more beautiful than Narcissa herself, but after years in Azkaban, her face had become gaunt, her ribs had begun to show, her skin was scarred and bruised and her hair was not the soft, shiny, curls that is used to be. She was not ugly and she still retained some of her good looks, but she wondered if maybe she had been a bit prettier, a bit more feminine, would the Dark Lord care for her more?<p>

The clock chimed midnight and, expecting him to be back from his werewolf excursion by now, Bellatrix left her room and crept down wing to her master's room. She lifted her hand to knock, but he must have sensed her presence and pulled the door open from underneath her fist.

"Bellatrix."

"My Lord, I am sorry to bother you."

"Do not lie to me, I know it is company you crave." He ushered her inside.

"Thank you, my Lord."

No sooner had she closed the door behind her had he pressed her against the wood and began to devour her neck.

"Why do you call this flimsy piece of cloth clothing?" he mumbled into her neck, ripping her nightgown from her body.

Bellatrix shrugged and reached out to touch his face. Instinctively, his head shot up.

"I have not permitted you to touch. I though better of you, Bellatrix."

"I am sorry, my Lord, but you have blood on your cheek."

Voldemort chuckled then, and reached to wipe the dried blood from his skin.

"I killed a half-breed today. He did not think it well to respect me, so I had him rip out his own throat."

Bellatrix cackled loudly and Voldemort resumed his position in Bellatrix's neck, biting the flesh until it bled. Deciding that he was finished with standing, he hoisted her up and threw her on the bed. Her head collided with the headboard and she let out yelp.

"I'm sure you enjoyed that, didn't you? You do have a knackering for pain, for causing it, for _loving _it."

His voice was filled with menace now and Bellatrix's eyes widened. His mood had changed so quickly and Bellatrix knew that he had an alterior motive for inviting her into him room. Without warning, he pushed into her.

"Did you really believe that I wouldn't find out about your incident with Lucius, Bellatrix? What could he have possibly done for you to use the Cruciatus curse on him?" he asked between thrusts.

Sex with Lord Voldemort was never gentle, but he appeared to be wanting to cause her physical pain this time. He was frantic. His nails dug into her throat and she felt as though he would off her at any moment. His other hand ripped through her hair, yanking her head back, banging it against the headboard once more.

"I am waiting, Bellatrix. I order you to tell me."

She did not want to; admitting that she loved the Dark Lord to his face was a suicide wish. But failing to give him an honest answer would seal her fate as well. Bellatrix was done for.

So she kept quiet, squeezing her eyes shut as she prepared for the worst.

"You will not tell me? I see then."

Voldemort slapped her, and a whimper escaped from her lips. He slapped her again, never once stopping the thrusting of his pelvis into her. He scratched her breasts, leaving beads of blood to form along the lines. He clawed at her scalp and she was sure that he had ripped large chunks of hair from her head. Finally, when the pain was too much to handle, she spoke.

"He-" she started, panting as he thrust into her.

"Yes?"

Bellatrix had no idea how the Dark Lord was not as exhausted as she was. His pace was frightening and she felt as though she may explode in a mixture of pain and exctasy. He did not even look satisfied. In fact, he was irritated that Bellatrix would not say outright why she had nearly hexed one of his Death Eaters to death.

"He said that I- he said that I l-loved you."

She felt herself ready to climax and just as the coil that had tightened in her stomach started to unravel he pulled out of her. Her eyes snapped open, searching for an answer.

"You love me." His face was expressionless and blank.

"I never told him that, my Lord, I-"

"You would not have tortured him if it had not been true. I know you, Bellatrix." he laughed then. "You _love_ me? This is rich."

"My Lord I-"

"Hasn't anyone told you that I cannot love, Bellatrix? I _will never _love you, you foolish woman!"

"Please, my Lord, I beg of you!"

"_Crucio!_"

Bellatrix screamed, her body jolted and everything went black.

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><p>AN: I'm rusty, wow.


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